Filter Free Me

At the end of the day, when I look in the mirror

Just what do I see?

It’s the face I created, the face I want the world to know.

But when the hair comes undone, or the hat comes off

When the makeup is erased and washed down the drain,

I see the face I love the most.

I see the uneven skin that shows I love to read outdoors,

I see the acne scars that prove I’m still a stupid kid.

I see the frizzy blonde hair and blue eyes that say I’m my moms,

And I see the uneven mouth and pointy chin that show I’m my dads.

When I undress from the day, and I stand naked in my room

I see much more.

I see the red lines from clothes that have tried all day to contain me,

But my skin never stopped pushing. 

I see the stretch marks that prove I have had to grow into who I am.

I see the scars of a life I am proud to have lived.

I also see the untouched skin, the skin that still looks new.

I see the unmarked and unseen pages of my life on my skin.

I see the book of my body that is still waiting to be read.